Save the Last Dance
by acidwash22
Summary: AH. Seventeen-year-old Max has lived and breathed dance since she was born. Nineteen-year-old Fang is just your average college football player. Not exactly a match made in heaven, but things are good. But can one huge secret ruin it all? *Taken over
1. Original

**Hello! My name is Kate and I'm taking over Save the Last Dance. I'm going to post the next little bit within a few days and I hope you all give me a chance to make this story as good as I possibly can. Alright, thanks **.1996 **for deciding I was good enough to give this story a shot.

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**Summary:**

**Seventeen-year-old Max has lived and breathed dance since the day she was born. It is the main focus of her life – she goes to private school, has dance every day for hours, and is elite in every style. She thinks her life is perfect, but there's always been something missing.**

**Fang is your average nineteen-year-old boy. He goes to college and parties, flirts with girls, and is athletic – the quarterback on the college's football team, despite the fact that he is a freshman. He thinks he's got it good, but he's never had it perfect.**

**When these two worlds collide the possibilities are endless. Will there be competition or friendship, love or hate?**

Max~January 2nd~7:23 PM

"It was good. I'd say just work on the fouettes a little more," said Anne, the owner of New York Dance Academy. I nodded and started the music, hurrying back to my place in the center of the floor.

"Down In the River to Pray" began to blare from the stereo, Allison Krauss's voice becoming the one and only thing I focused on. The class of fifteen five- through eight-year-old girls sitting on the floor in front of the mirrors? No big deal. The studio owner and some of the other elite dancers watching? No biggie.

After my switch leap, while getting prepped for my fouette turns, I focused on making them neat to please Anne. I pointed my toe for each of the seven fouettes, and I twirled to a stop. After an asymmetrical jump with both legs bent, I landed down and launched into a turning C jump, landing on the floor and doing a neat fish flop (it doesn't sound like it can be neat, but it can). I hit my ending pose.

The class of little girls clapped and were led out by their teachers as I grabbed my iPod.

"Come show me what costume you're doing," Anne said, and she disappeared. I pulled on some baggy black sweats over my spandex and pulled my purple hoodie on over my sports bra, then I slipped on my Nikes and went out to the main area, letting the class behind me take the room.

I wandered behind the counter and grabbed the magazine that my costume was in, using the bright green sticky note labeled "Max" to find my page.

"This is it," I said, holding up the magazine to show Anne.

"For the lyrical one, right?" she verified, taking a look at the picture. The costume I'd chosen was a white halter top dress that flowed to my upper thighs and had little gold accents on the halter part. There was a pair of gold spandex underneath.

"Yeah."

"Looks good. You'll be here at five o'clock sharp for your hip hop class, right?" For some reason Anne always thought I'd forget about the classes I taught. I don't know why – maybe because I'm a teenage girl? But I was a serious dancer – I lived and breathed this stuff.

"Yup. And at eight in the morning. See ya later." I waved over my shoulder as I halfway zipped up my hoodie and grabbed my dance bag and car keys.

"Bye."

"Shit," I mumbled to myself as I stepped into a puddle. I sighed exasperatedly as I shook my foot to get the water droplets off and then got into my car, pulling my hair out of its messy bun so that it fell into its natural position. I glanced at myself in the mirror.

Though I'd been told otherwise, I didn't consider myself to be very pretty. I was tall, about five and a half feet tall, and naturally slim and lean. I had dark blonde hair (that had natural streaks of brown and a reddish color in it) that always fell to my shoulders stick straight, no matter how long I had hot rollers in it. My eyes were brown and always liquidy, and I had just the average skin tone.

I waved one last time to Anne through the window and then I backed out, heading home slowly. My phone rang, blasting Ke$ha's "We R Who We R."

"Hello?" I said, not bothering to glance at the Caller ID. I shifted so that my cell was between my shoulder and my ear and I could have both hands on the wheel.

"Hey, Max, it's Mom. Can you pick Iggy up from therapy?"

I inwardly sighed, but said in a cheerful voice, "No problem, Mom."

"Thanks, Max. Love you." She made a kissy noise and hung up. I sighed and tossed my phone into the passenger seat, pulling over to turn towards Iggy's therapy.

I got there a few minutes later and I went inside, seeing Iggy in the waiting room with his therapist.

"Hey, Ig," I said, sitting down beside him.

My twin brother was like a clone of me – his muscles were just more defined. He had the hair and features and skin tone I did but his eyes, which used to be the same chocolate brown as mine, were now a cloudy blue. Two months ago he'd been out hunting with our thirteen-year-old sister Ella (she was a total tomboy) and the gun had backfired, causing him to go blind. He was still adjusting.

"Hi, Max. Let's go." He grabbed my arm and started to drag me away, ignoring his therapist. He didn't like her for some reason.

"Uh, thanks, Dr.," I said to the woman hurriedly, and then I led Iggy to the passenger side of my black car, shoving things out of the seat so that he could get in.

"How was therapy?" I asked as soon as we got going.

Iggy shrugged and said, "How was dance?"

When we got home Mom was rushing around, cooking dinner and helping Ella with her algebra and all. When she heard the door shut she hurried over, planted a quick kiss on my cheek, and dragged Iggy somewhere.

Lately it seemed like Mom had no time for me. Which I could understand, but still. With her helping Iggy with his traumatic event, and her helping Ella with having witnessed such a traumatic event, plus her having to be a mother, she barely ever found time to even ask me how my day was or anything. I was living every seventeen-year-old's dream, but I was getting a little sick of it after two months.

Fang~January 2nd~11:47 PM

"Is it freaking sorority party night or something?" asked my best friend and roommate Tony. His eyes flashed to the next lit-up yard we saw, and automatically glued to the girls.

"Relax, man. You're wasted already, and I can't risk you tempting me to stop and drink."

"Why not?" Tony asked. He was always brainless when he was drunk.

"Because my eleven-year-old brother is staying with us tonight, and I'm lucky I could even leave him home alone for this long."

"Oh yeah." Tony scratched his head and reached forward, blasting the radio. Some rap song was now on so loud that I was afraid my eardrums would bleed.

We got back to our dorm and I had to help Tony get up to the third floor.

"Gazzy, go in the other room for a sec," I called through the door, and a few moments later I went inside. I dragged Tony to his room and shoved him onto his bed, wandering back to the living room.

"Can I come out now?" my brother called from my room.

"Come on out, little man," I said. Gazzy came out, and the two of us played Call of Duty for a while, until he fell asleep and I got him settled on the couch.

In my room I took off my shirt and threw on some sweatpants, falling back onto my bed.

Damn, I was going to be tired tomorrow. I had no classes on Fridays, but football practice was going to _kill_. Not to mention I had to wake up at nine to take Gazzy home…

My cell phone buzzed, and I got a random text from my father: _Saturday can you take Angel to that dance show thing?_

I sighed and let my head fall back. Wow, Dad. What nineteen-year-old boy would want to take his nine-year-old sister to watch a dance recital? Not this guy. Dance was stupid – hardly even a sport in my opinion.

My phone buzzed again: _Please?_

_Fine,_I text back, and then I fell asleep.

* * *

_**Chapter Two:**_

Max~January 3rd~9:00 AM

I'd been at the studio for an hour now and, as I was getting tired of running the hip-hop dance I'd had perfected for weeks now, I was behind the desk picking the costumes for the five dances I would be taking to competition this year. Usually every year I did at least fifteen dances for competition, but this year I'd slimmed it down so that I could look into colleges and dance schools.

For my lyrical I was wearing, of course, the flowy white and gold ensemble.

For my hip-hop I chose had tight leather black pants that had three large tears on each thigh. The top was a shiny silver sports bra, and the sleeves were black mesh that ran to my elbows. I had a pair of good black shoes I could wear with it.

For my jazz duo (with fifteen-year-old Nudge) I chose black jazz pants and a splotchy red top that was long-sleeved and off the shoulder.

For tap I chose long black jazz pants, a long-sleeved black shirt, and a shiny silver vest, which came with a black hat that had a silver band on it.

And for my ballet duo with Dylan (whom I told would have to come in and pick something for himself) I chose an outfit that had a sky blue leotard underneath, and gold spaghetti straps, and layers and layers of filmy bluish white material.

I would decide hair as the competition got closer.

"Hey, Max?" said Tonya, one of the instructors.

"Yeah?" I said, glancing up from the magazine.

"Can you come watch this dance really quick? Let her know what she needs to fix?"

"Of course." I took off the black-framed glasses I always had to use for reading and went to the room, sitting down on one of the glittery black chairs we used for some dances.

Tonya started the fast beat hip-hop music and the eleven-year-old girl, Lilia, started her routine. I watched carefully until it was finished.

"I'd say just work on the part with all the crazy arm movements. The music's kind of fast and it looks like you're rushing to keep up with it. Other than that it was really good," I said. I watched Lilia's routine one more time and then ran through my hip-hop three more times, then I decided to head to school.

Since I was fourteen I'd been in private school so that I could have lots of time for dance. School ran from eleven o'clock to two. Monday through Friday I had dance from eight AM to ten AM and three PM to nine-thirty. Saturday I only had dance from five to eight PM, and Sunday was eight AM to eight PM.

I stopped at home and put on some dark jeans, a T-shirt from last year's nationals, and some of my favorite high top tennis shoes. I dabbed on the slightest bit of makeup, brushed my hair, and headed off to school.

"Max!" screamed Alexis, my best friend. She rushed over and squeezed me in a hug. "How was your break?"

"Great. Had dance, as usual. What's the point of coming back on a Friday, though?" I asked. Alexis shrugged and we went to the locker that we shared, grabbing everything we needed for our first class. Every class ran for roughly an hour, and we had two minutes between each. First I had finite mathematics.

Mr. Braun was waiting at the door, individually welcoming everybody back. "Hello, Max, glad to have you back."

"Glad to be back, Mr. Braun," I said sarcastically, and I took a seat in my assigned seat, near the door. As usual, I practically fell asleep in that class. Animal science and English IV honors were the same.

Then, as usual, I stopped at home to grab my stuff and went to dance.

"Max, we're having a showcase type thing tomorrow. I get that it's really short notice, but would you want to perform one of your dances there?" Anne said, the moment I walked through the door.

"What kind of showcase?" I asked. I hung my bag on my hook and stripped down to my shorts and sports bra, finishing the strawberry-banana smoothie I'd gotten at McDonald's.

"It's just for people interested in coming to the studio, so they can see some of our dancers. It's here at the studio, and it's not like you have to dress up or anything. They can just come to the studio and step inside one of the rooms and watch. I'll be at the desk so they can register and all that."

I shrugged and muttered, "Yeah, I guess. Can I do my lyrical one?" Anne nodded. "Good. What time is it?"

"Tomorrow starting at eight, but you might want to be here at seven-thirty or so to run through your dance full-out. And like I said, you can just wear what you're wearing now if you need to. Or you can dress up if you want. Whatever."

"Okey dokie. Sign me up," I said, and I went into the room. Nudge was already on the floor stretching hey.

"Hey, Max," she said, sliding into her splits.

"Hi. How was your first day back?" Nudge went to public school, but hers got out at two-thirty, so she was able to be here by three.

She shrugged and said, "It was school. Ready to go?"

"Always am," I said, and I started the music and got into my starting pose.

Fang~January 3rd~6:19 PM

I came out of the locker room after practice, and I felt like crap. That was the last time I stayed out that late on a football practice night.

I drove to my parent's house, since I hadn't seen any of them for awhile.

Angel sprinted to me the moment I was inside and attacked me with a hug. "You're seriously taking me to the dance showcase tomorrow?" she cried in excitement.

"I guess I am," I muttered, messing up her hair. She pulled away, adjusted it, and yelled for our parents.

"Hello, Nick," Mom said, kissing both of my cheeks. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach me.

"Fang, Mom."

"But you sound so…I don't know, violent."

I shrugged and said, "Oh well. That's what I want to be called."

"Good to see you, Fang," my dad said, coming into the room.

"Hi, Dad."

"Guess what, Dad? Fang said he'd take me to the NYDA showcase! Aren't you excited, Fang?" Angel looked at me with her huge blue eyes. A lot of people didn't believe we were related because we looked so different.

"Can't wait, Angel," I lied, "can't wait."

* * *

_**Chapter Three:**_

Max~January 4th~7:29 PM

After I ran through my lyrical dance a few times Dylan finally arrived.

"Jeez, you idiot, I've needed to see you lately," I told him as soon as he came in, playfully shoving his shoulder. Dylan and I weren't at all romantic – just really good friends. And no, he's not gay. Guys can dance and not be gay, believe it or not.

"What did you need so badly?" he asked, following me behind the desk.

"I picked my costume for our ballet duo, so you need to pick yours. And please make it match mine a _little_. We don't need a rerun of last year," I reminded him in a taunting voice. He rolled his eyes and snatched a magazine.

"Max!" Anne called, shoving her way through the huge throng of parents and kids here for the showcase. It was still early, and our small reception area was literally overflowing – people were lined up on the sidewalk.

"Yeah, Anne?" I asked, hiding the now-empty bag of Doritos behind my back. There was a drawer of food for the dancers that were here for a long time, but the last time somebody finished the Doritos, Anne flipped.

"I've got your paycheck for this week. And Sue wanted to know if you can sub for her tiny tots tumbling tomorrow at five."

I took the check from Anne and thought for a moment, then said, "I can't. I've got my beginning tap class."

Anne nodded, scrawled something down in her little notebook, and said, "I'll just find somebody else. You better go claim a room and a stereo." I looked up at the clock.

"Oh, shit, it's eight. You have fun with…this situation," I said jokingly, nodding to the crowd of people, and then I hurried off to claim a room.

Fang~January 4th~8:02 PM

The line of people finally got moving, people separating to rooms, and Angel and I managed to get out of the cold.

"Hang your coat up," I told her, nodding toward the coat rack. I was wearing my usual dark jeans, black T-shirt, and black tennis shoes, and I gave Angel my black jacket, which she hung up beneath her fuzzy pink one.

"Thanks for bringing me, Fang," she said for about the millionth time since we'd gotten here.

"Whatever. So – you pick. Which room." I gestured to the doorways, all of which were labeled with a style of dance and a name.

Angel pointed to one labeled "Tumbling, Lissa." I thought I recognized the name as this one girl who'd totally stalked me at the mall not too long ago. One glance through the window, where the redheaded girl was doing (and failing) a back handspring, and my assumption was verified.

"Let's go somewhere else," I suggested, hurriedly pulling Angel into a random room. I whipped my head to the side once to get my shaggy hair out of my eyes. **(A/N: OMG, I just realized that if Fang did the Justin Bieber hair thing, I would totally die of happiness!)**

The girl standing in the back fiddling with her iPod was gorgeous. (And I would usually say hot.) Her dark blonde hair was in a neat low ponytail, and her dark brown eyes were framed by lashes just long enough to cast a shadow onto her high cheekbones. She was wearing black spandex and layered spaghetti strap tank tops, I hot pink one on top. And her body was _amazing_. A flat stomach, curves right where they belonged. She didn't have much of a chest, but that wasn't even what I was looking at.

She tapped the screen of her iPod, made sure it was plugged into the speakers, and hopped lightly to the middle of the room. Her face was slightly pink and there was a light sheen of sweat on it as she hit her beginning pose.

She crossed her arms over her chest so that she was hugging herself tightly. She stood flat on her left leg, her right leg popped out so that it was straight and only her toes touched the ground. She threw her head back carelessly.

"Psst, Fang!" Angel hissed, sitting down in front of the mirrors. I scuttled over to stand beside her and watched the girl dance.

Every movement she made – every finger flick, toe point, _everything_– led into an even more graceful skill, or so it seemed. Though time told me that it was somewhere around a five minute dance, it seemed to be moments later when she hit her ending pose, lying flat on the floor with her head closest to us, her arms splayed gracefully to her sides.

As she got up and hurried to stop her iPod, the room began to empty out, but Angel and I stayed right where we were.

Max~January 4th~8:16 PM

After my third time running the dance, I paused my iPod and flipped the sign on the door over, so that it said "Be Back in Five." (What? I'd gotten Anne's permission, and it was a tiring dance.) Then I shut the door and turned around.

"God!" I cried, surprised to see two people still in the room. A girl, roughly twelve or so, with blonde hair and blue eyes and a complete pink wardrobe. And a boy, somewhere around my age. He had to be somewhere just over six feet tall, and his muscles were well-toned. He had olive skin, shaggy dark brown hair, and eyes that were startlingly dark – even darker than his completely black ensemble.

"Sorry! We didn't mean to scare you," the girl said, standing up. She approached me and held out her hand, which I shook. "I'm Angel, and you're a really good dancer."

"Thanks, and I'm Max."

"And that's my antisocial brother, Fang." I glanced over at the tall dark guy, whose lips twitched in what I assumed was a hello smile, and smiled politely at him.

"So," Angel said, "how'd you get that good?"

"Years and years and _years_of hard work and perseverance," I answered completely honestly. Fang – what a weird name – snorted and rolled his eyes. I fought my natural competitive side and the urge to do something to prove to him that dance wasn't easy, and by some miracle I managed to ignore him.

"If I register can I ask for you to be my teacher?" Angel asked hopefully, her big blue Bambi eyes shooting daggers at me. But admiring daggers.

"You can request me, yes. But I've got a pretty full schedule, so I don't know if I have a free slot."

"Can I go ask real quick?"

"Sure. Ask Anne – she's the one in the black skirt and ruffled white shirt." Angel hugged me tightly and sprinted out the door, slamming it behind her.

"So," Fang said, mostly trying to get rid of the awkward silence, "where do you go to school?"

"New York College Prep. I graduate this year."

"You're a senior? Huh. I'd never believe it. You barely look like a sophomore," he said. I shrugged, deciding to take it as a compliment.

"Well I'm only seventeen. What about you?"

"Nineteen."

"Um…I meant what school do you go to," I said, doing a backbend then setting myself out of it, sitting up cross-legged.

"NYU. I actually play football out there."

"Sweet." I nodded, not really knowing what else to say. "Angel seems like she'll be a really great dancer. I mean, she seems like she'll be really motivated. She's got heart."

Fang laughed and said, "Yeah, that and ADHD. My family's pretty dysfunctional."

"Mine's not too great itself. My sister wears guy clothes and wants a nose piercing, and my brother's blind." Fang stood there silently, not really knowing what to say. "But it's no big deal. I mean, we're adjusting."

Angel came bursting back in and cried, "You have one free spot, Saturdays from eight to nine! And Fang, we _have_to register now if we want it, because a lot of people are requesting Max."

Fang sighed, "Call Mom," and tossed his cell phone toward her. She skillfully caught it and started to dial a number immediately. Fang and I just stood there in silence, listening only to Angel's side of the phone call.

Finally I got bored and just did a bunch of cartwheels and handstands and splits and all that good stuff. Normal teenagers get bored and they text or play video games. I get bored and I give myself genuine entertainment.

Angel finally hung up and said, "She said yes! Fang, you'll have to pay, but Mom said she'll pay you back. She says any style's fine as long as I'm not bumping and grinding."

I laughed and said, "Sounds good. When I was eleven an instructor made me try a dance like that. It wasn't a good deal." Angel and Fang followed me out to the reception area. It was mostly empty now, as the parents and kids were watching dances, so I just pointed Fang in the direction of Anne.

"Hey, Anne?" I asked while Fang was getting out his billfold.

"Yes, Max?"

"Can I take the laptop in and work on my biography, since you've been riding my butt about it?"

Anne laughed and said, "Go for it."

As soon as you walked into our studio, the right wall was all trophies and plaques and photos and banners, and the left side was our Instructor Wall. All of the instructors had a biography and some photos of themselves up there, and Anne had been bugging me about finishing mine to put up.

Back in the room I turned on my iPod to a Rihanna song, laid down on the floor, and put the laptop out in front of me, trying to decide what to put. Finally I had my first sentence, and it just flowed from there.

_Hey! I'm Maximum Ride Martinez, but my students and everybody else know me as Max. I was born October 18, 1993. My mom is Dr. Valencia Martinez, and she's a vet at East Paws. I have a fourteen-year-old sister, Ella. She is the total polar opposite of me! She likes hunting and video games and all that stuff. My twin brother Iggy is…well, my twin. He's just a lot weirder than me. ;)_

_I started dancing when I was 1 ½ and was in love with it from the start! Originally I only did ballet and lyrical, but as my goals grew so did my styles. I now do ballet, lyrical, hip-hop, jazz, and tap, as well as instruct. I am a HUGE competitive dancer – Anne thinks I get too competitive once in a while. LOL :)_

_I've reached pretty much all of my goals when it comes to dance (nationals, competitions, etc.) and now I have three main goals. 1: Stay in it for as long as physically possible. 2: Become an even better instructor and maybe someday open my own studio. 3: One word – JUILLIARD!_

_So there's my life in a nutshell. Remember to always LIVE, LOVE, DANCE! (: ~Max~_

When I was pleased with my biography I logged onto my Facebook and copied and pasted two pictures to the bottom of my Word document.

The first was of me at my first recital when I was two. I was in a bright polka dot yellow dress, and I'd danced with another group of girls to "Banana Phone."

And the second was a more recent picture of me. It was from nationals, which had taken place last May, where my lyrical solo had placed first overall. In the picture I was in front of the nationals logo, wearing the flowy pale purple dress I'd worn. I was holding the trophy in front of my chest and smiling hugely.

I made the words a little more colorful, printed the page, and then found an empty place and taped it up on the Instructor Wall.

I turned around to go back to the desk so I could get my things and go, but ran right smack into something tall and rock hard.

"Sorry," Fang said, reaching down with his hand. I took it and pulled myself up, brushing myself off.

"No big deal. I hope I see you soon, Angel." I smiled at the little girl.

"Me too, Max!"

My eyes found the dark ones that belonged to her brother. "Fang."

As soon as they'd gone I got my things and headed home, unaware that "just in case any details need rearranged" Anne had given Fang my phone number.

* * *

_**Chapter Four:**_

Max~January 5th~4:02 PM

"Just admit it, Max. I'm a stud," Dylan joked as we both stretched. Despite the fact that we were keeping straight legs, pointed toes, and very neat forms, there was a rap song coming out of Dylan's iPod.

"Can't admit something that's not true," I told him, standing from my splits. I pulled my right leg up above my head and pressed it against the wall, pushing myself into it so that my left leg and forehead also touched the wall. My muscles burned a little – I hadn't stretched this much for a while.

I wasn't a prima ballerina or anything like that – I was in contemporary. Still, it required a lot of flexibility.

Dylan hardly stretched at all – he was all muscle. The only reason he did ballet, he said, was because Anne knew that it was effortless for him to lift me. He just stood there, working on his turns. He usually did jazz, so it took him a while to get into ballet-mode.

"Ready?" I asked, taking the cord out of Dylan's iPod and plugging my own in. Ignoring his objections, I plugged my own in and turned it to "Hallelujah." The Kate Voegele version, of course – it was my personal favorite. I clicked on the little arrow and rushed to my beginning pose.

I slipped right hand into Dylan's left one, standing to his left side. I carefully pressed onto the very tip of my ballet shoe, letting the other rest on the ground slightly behind. My left hand I had curved gently at the elbow, above my head, and I looked up and slightly to the left.

Then the music started. I just let myself glide gracefully with the music, which was easy for me. For each leap I used as much power as I could to throw myself into it, and yet I knew that it needed to be graceful. Not look like power – look effortless.

We ran through the dance six times, then we worked on turns, leaps, and the lifts that we had in our dance.

Later that night, a little after eight, I headed home.

"I'm back!" I called as I got into the door, dropping my car keys onto the table and dumping my dance bag on the floor. There was no answer. "Hello?" I called again. I wandered into the kitchen, only to find Ella's homework abandoned on the counter. "This isn't funny!" I yelled, freaked out as I sprinted throughout the house, checking every room, even – ew – the bathrooms.

Finally I threw open the doors to the den, only to find Ella with some guy's arm around her shoulder, both closing their eyes as their faces got closer and closer…

"Get a freaking room!" I cried in both shock and disgust. I mean my fifteen-year-old sister and some poor boy who didn't know that she doesn't like lip gloss and puppy dogs. My sister is a hunting, four-wheeling kind of girl.

"Max!" Ella looked mortified, her face a shade of red so bright that, if it wasn't that color, I would have thought only to find at the bottom of a volcano. "Um…" She looked down, suddenly very interested in the zipper on her hoodie. "This is Ari. Ari, this is my sister Max."

"Hi," the boy said, smiling and completely at ease on _my_mom's couch, watching _my_Nicholas Sparks movie. He was tall, easily a few inches taller than me, but not taller than the Fang guy who'd been at the showcase the night before.

"You'll have to excuse Ella for just one moment," I said sweetly, grabbing my sister by her wrists and pulling her out of the den so that we were out of earshot. "Ella, how old _is_that boy?"

"Uh, he's, uh, eighteen." Ella looked at her shoes.

"_Eighteen_? The kid's older than _me,_Ella! Where's Mom?" I demanded, furious. An eighteen-year-old boy trying to make a move on my fifteen-year-old sister? So not gonna happen!

"She went to pick up Iggy from therapy, and they were gonna stop for some groceries on the way back."

"Well I'm calling her," I said, turning on my heel to go get my cell phone from my purse.

I had the first four numbers typed in when large hands suddenly gripped my shoulders. I stiffened immediately, not ready for whatever prank Iggy was going to pull. But wait… since the accident, Iggy didn't mess with me. And these were definitely a guy's hands. I whirled to come face-to-face with Ari.

"Come on, Max," he said in a practically taunting voice, "you don't really want to tell your mom." He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into his chest.

"Yeah, I really do," I huffed, shoving away from him and colliding with the wall. The picture frames shook as my back slammed into the wall and my phone went clattering to the floor. Ari's hands slammed into the wall on either side of my head, barring off any opportunity to squirm away. Although inside I was terrified – from this view I could see that Ari was _buff_– on the outside I just sneered and hissed, "Ooh, scary."

Ari smirked and brought his face slowly closer. At first I thought he was going to kiss me – _disgusting!_– but he instead brought his lips mere millimeters from my ear. I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he said, "Don't say anything, Max, or else nothing good will come your way."

He pushed off the wall just as Ella appeared, her face red and blotchy. "Fine, Max. You win," she muttered crossing her arms over her chest.

I was about to agree, then I remembered Ari's threat. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and then said, "No, Ella. You win."

Then I fled to my room.

Fang~January 5th~6:13 PM

I finished dinner after only one small serving of everything. (Mom wasn't the greatest cook, but it wasn't like I could refuse her dinner invite.)

"It was great, Mom," I said, crumpling up my napkin and covering the vomit – a.k.a. food – on my plate with it.

"Yeah, right! It was totally disgusting!" Gazzy said. Well, you've got to admire his honesty.

"Gazzy, you know that hurts your mother's feelings," Dad said. Mom did look kind of upset.

Angel smiled sweetly and said, "Well _I_thought it was great, Mom. They're just perfectionists. They're stupid." Gazzy shot her a look that said otherwise, but Angel ignored him. "When do I start dance?" she asked excitedly.

"Well we were originally going to do Saturdays, but for your teacher Mondays work better. I've got a meeting at the library, so Dad's gonna have to take you," Mom said, sticking a forkful of green beans into her mouth.

Dad's fork clattered to his plate as he said, "Jen, I thought we agreed you were taking her. I'm going to the bar with my buddies."

"Well Jeb, that's not going to work. We're organizing the Walk for Breast Cancer, so I think it overrules your little bar plans."

"What if Fang took her?" Dad said, gesturing to me. Yeah, Dad, Angel's little dance class is far more important than my homework. On second thought…

"Sounds good to me. But don't make any plans for me on Saturday, because we have a game," I said, getting up and putting my dishes away.

"But football season ended forever ago. Why do you even still practice?" Mom thought that sports and violence were pointless, and packaged together they become football, so she really didn't particularly like my choice of entertainment. But I was talented and enjoyed it, so I wasn't about to quit.

"It's college football, so we never really take a break from practice. And we're just doing a sort-of scrimmage against another university, so we don't lose whatever it is that made us undefeated."

Mom just snorted and cleared the table. "Whatever," she said. "Just don't forget to take Angel tomorrow."

* * *

_**Chapter Five:**_

Max~January 6th~7:42 PM

"How was your day, Max?" Anne asked as I walked into the studio, putting chap stick on. I tossed my chap stick into my bag.

"It was a Monday, and that alone says how my whole day went," I said, taking off my sling bag and hanging it on my hook. I slipped off my black Uggs, threw back my sweatshirt hood, and added, "I hate snow."

"So you live in New York why?" she replied.

"Touché," I laughed back. I rolled up my torn tights so that they were halfway over my calves and decided to keep my purple zip-up hoodie on, along with my black shorts. "What time does my class start?" I asked, sitting down and pulling on my jazz shoes.

"About fifteen minutes. It's only a class of eight girls, so it shouldn't be too bad. And they're all eight through ten."

"Great." I stood up, grabbed the CD I'd burned earlier and my strawberry-banana smoothie, and got a room. I left the door open so that I would know when my girls arrived. I just left my things by the stereo and worked on my calypso jumps for awhile, until it was eight o'clock.

"Max?" Anne said, knocking on the wall. "Your class is here."

I smiled and said, "Great. Come on in, girls." The eight girls, all small and afraid-looking, entered the room. I had us all get organized in a little circle, told the girls what to do, and sipped on my smoothie while I listened to them.

"I'm Caroline," said a tiny brunette girl with pokey pigtails. She followed my instructions and finished, "I'm in second grade and this is my first year dancing." I nodded, smiled at her, and looked to the next girl.

"I'm Angel," said the little blonde girl who'd come to the showcase with her hot older brother, Fang. Wait…I didn't just say that, okay? "I'm in first grade, and this is my first year dancing." I smiled at her as well.

The six others – Whitney, Rachel, Nicole, Ana, Eva, and Caitlyn – said their introductions, and then I said, "Well I'm Max. I'm in twelfth grade and I started dancing when I was one."

"Hi, Max," they all said politely. They'd come in looking terrified of me, the big high school girl, but they looked less nervous now. Which was good, and had been my goal in the activity.

"Let's spread out and stretch," I said, standing up. As I threw my empty smoothie cup away I glanced at the clock. We had fifty minutes left.

I started some fast-beat music, got in place, and said, "Alrighty, ladies, let's stand with our legs shoulder-length apart and reach down as far as you can. See if you can touch the floor." I demonstrated as I instructed, and felt my muscles relax as I reached down and rested my hands on the floor. My loose hair fell off of my shoulders and splayed out on the floor.

"Max, some parents want to sit in and supervise. Is that okay with you?" Anne asked from the doorway.

I turned my head, still upside-down, and said, "Sure, sounds good. Girls, you can go grab your parents if you want." They all disappeared to get their parents, while I stayed stretching, reaching over to hold onto my right foot.

Pretty soon parents started to come in and we got back to stretching. We were doing handstands against the mirror when I saw a pair of sneakers that a parent would never wear. I looked up at the wearer from my handstand, only to see an upside-down version of Angel's brother, Fang, smirking at me.

Fang~January 6th~8:16 PM

I was perfectly fine where I was, texting out in the reception area. That is, until Angel came flying out, grabbed my hand, and pulled me into the room.

She went back to what she was doing before I could ask why I was here, but I saw parents sitting in the few chairs in the corner and understood – she wanted me to watch.

The class was all in handstands when I walked past, and I recognized somebody. Max, the dancer from the showcase, was upside down in her handstand. Her smooth hair was falling to the floor, along with the hood of her sweatshirt, and I could see her expression of shock when she saw me. I smirked slightly, then found a seat.

For the class they just worked on leaps and turns for the most part. Angel and two other girls were clearly the most advanced ones there, other than Max, of course. Her turns were clean and easy (they were beginner, though) and she was so flexible she made the leaps look easy.

About an hour later, at nine, the class was dismissed. I paid the first month's tuition in advance while Angel struggled to get all of her snow gear on. While the owner, Anne, was getting my receipt, Max threw a bag over her shoulder and said, "I'm going, Anne, see you later."

"Bye, Max. Remember class tomorrow eight to ten then three to nine-thirty."

"I haven't forgotten yet, have I?" Max asked, and then she waved as she left.

"Here you go," Anne said, ripping the receipt out of a little book and handing it to me.

"Thanks," I said, taking the receipt and tucking it safely into my pocket. Mom owed me big time – first for registration, and now for this month's tuition. Oh, God. I was becoming a dance brother. I'd have to call in some friends to watch the basketball game this Friday to make up for all of this…dance.

"Ready?" I asked Angel.

"Yuppers," she said. She took my hand. I didn't know why she always constantly had to hold my hand. I mean, she was nine – did she seriously need me to hold her hand everywhere we went, everything we did? The moment we stepped out the door and into the falling snow, Angel sprinted off toward my truck, desperate to get out of the cold. I walked a little bit slower.

I saw Max in a tiny black car, shivering and turning the key over and over again. I rapped on the window, making her jump. She saw it was me and rolled the window down.

"Something wrong, Fang?" she asked, her teeth chattering.

Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I pretended to be oblivious to the cold, though it was beginning to nip at my ears. "I saw you were having problems with your car, and I came to see if you needed a ride."

"Oh, it's fine. I can call somebody –"

"Max, seriously, it's no trouble. I can take you and you can call a tow truck on the way," I said, trying to convince her. So what if I didn't consider her to be a real athlete – she was a cute girl, and I wasn't going to let her freeze in her car in the parking lot.

After a few moments of silently trying to find an excuse to stay, Max finally muttered, "I guess that's okay. Thanks." She rolled up her window, got all of her things, and got out to follow me to my truck.

I whistled loudly to get Angel's attention and said, "Back seat." She gave me the pouty lips, but when she saw Max she immediately obeyed. Max was silent as she slid into the front seat beside me.

"Where to?" I asked, starting my truck and turning down the embarrassingly loud rap music that started to blare out.

Max pretended not to be bothered by how loud my music had been and said, "Take a left out of the parking lot and go straight for awhile." I nodded and followed her instructions.

We drove in complete silence for a few moments until Max cried, "Shit!" Then her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with one hand as she remembered Angel in the back seat.

"It's fine," I said. "It's nothing she hasn't heard before." I glanced back in the mirror and saw that Angel was listening to music on her MP3 Player anyway and probably hadn't heard it. "What's wrong? Forget something?"

"I was supposed to pick Iggy up from therapy," she said, burying her face in her hands for a few moments until she combed her fingers through her gnarled hair. But sexy gnarled.

I mentally slapped myself. _No, Fang,_I told myself sternly, as if that would change how overall good-looking Max was. _She's a dancer and your little sister's teacher. It would never work anyway._

"Iggy?" I finally said, just to get my mind away from the road it had been on.

"My brother." Oh, right. The blind one.

"Oh, well that's fine. Where's his therapy at?"

"214th," she said. And I turned the truck around.

Max~January 6th~9:18 PM

I felt bad as Fang turned around to head toward the therapist's center. He was probably already going out of his way enough to take me home, and now I was making him turn around to pick up Iggy. Oh, God.

I wasn't embarrassed about Iggy's disability at all. It was just that some of my friends at school and dance wouldn't quite understand it. So how could I expect Fang to? You had to have tons of patience dealing with a blind person, no matter how temporarily, and I didn't know if Fang had that patience.

Not to mention all the trash Iggy had on me. Everything from my slight (notice the _slight,_please) anorexia issue that I still wasn't all the way over, to the list of cute guys I had in my diary in seventh grade, to all the dirt on the very few (two, in fact) past boyfriends that I'd had. Great. What would he tell Fang?

Finally he pulled to a stop in the therapist's parking lot and I said, "I'll just run in and get him real quick. I'll be fast, I promise." He nodded and I turned and jogged inside.

"…shouldn't let it – Oh, here she is now," the therapist was saying when I walked in. She shot me a look that I knew immediately was irritation at my lateness, but within a millisecond was replaced with that calming look that it seems like therapists are required to have. "Nice to see you again, Max."

"You too, Dr. Philips," I said, smiling sweetly. "Ready to go, Ig?" I could see that he was – he had on his coat and gloves, and his expression just screamed, _Get me outta here!_

"Beyond ready," Iggy replied, standing up. I smiled again at Dr. Philips, grabbed Iggy's arm, and pulled him outside.

"So my piece of shit car broke down, so we're riding with one of my student's brothers. Please behave and don't use any foul language because of the little girl, and _please_don't mention anything embarrassing," I blubbered, trying to get everything that needed to be said out before we reached the truck.

"Whatever," Iggy sighed. I opened the back door for him, let him climb in. The first week after he first became blind I tried to help him buckle up, which pissed him off majorly. Now I had a trick – while his hands were roaming around, searching for the seatbelt, I would put it in his hands and let him do the rest. I did the same tonight.

When we started going again Fang looked in the mirror at Iggy and said, "Hi. I'm Fang, a friend of Max's." I noticed how he looked Iggy in the eyes, despite the fact that he was blind. Even though Iggy didn't realize it, Fang was respecting him, not treating him any differently because of his disability. I loved it.

"I'm Iggy," Iggy huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Well, it wasn't exactly mannerly, but it was better than the cussing he'd done the whole first month after the accident.

While the three quietly conversed, I called a tow company. They gave me the address of the shop they'd take my car to, as well as the cost, and I thanked them and hung up.

We pulled up to my house. Iggy got out and Mom met him halfway to the house on the sidewalk. She shot a questioning glance at the truck but I knew she'd get the whole story out of Iggy.

"Will you need a ride tomorrow? I kind of overheard that you needed to be there at eight, and I kind of figured that since you don't have a car you might need a ride," Fang said. Angel was asleep in the back seat and I looked over at Fang, right at his shiny eyes that were as dark as the night that surrounded the truck.

"You don't have to," I murmured quietly.

"But I want to. Besides, my classes start at nine, so I'll be up and going anyway."

"I guess that sounds great. See you at seven-thirty?"

"See ya then," Fang said, sounding glad that we'd be seeing each other again. I was glad too, though I couldn't put my finger on exactly why. Maybe because Fang had an essence of danger around him, what with all his black clothes. And yet he was still sweet enough to take his sister to dance. He was so unpredictable.

So unlike the two guys I'd dated before.

"Thanks for the ride. See you tomorrow." I waved as I got out of the truck.

"Bright and early," Fang confirmed, and he waited until I was safely inside to drive away.

* * *

_**Chapter Six:**_

Max~January 7th~7:29 AM

I stood in the doorway, shivering despite my puffy brown winter coat. I was waiting for Fang to arrive and, as I did so, I drew little pictures on the frosted glass of the doorway. Through a little peace sign I could see the snow falling from the sky.

We had eight inches of snow, as well as a thick layer of ice beneath it, so schools throughout the city had been closed, mine included. Dance was for mostly everybody too, but the dance recital was a few weeks away and we had yet to learn the teacher dance. We were taking this break from teaching to create one.

My breath slightly fogged up my drawn-on peace sign, but it was still clear enough that I could see Fang's huge truck pull up.

"I'm going, Mom!" I called, and I opened the door and sprinted to Fang's truck. By the time I got inside, where it was warm, my cheeks were probably bright red.

"Hey," Fang said. "I wasn't sure if you still had dance today with all the snow. Classes got cancelled, which is rare for a college."

"We're learning the teacher's dance and then we're gonna order pizza and have a movie marathon. At least until they get snowplows out and going," I told him. My teeth finally stopped chattering as I got warmed up.

"Do you need to call me when you need picked up?" When I nodded, Fang reached over and put his number into my cell phone, and then we hit the road.

We weren't even supposed to meet until nine, which I guess was good because with the crappy roads, it was going to take forever to get there.

Suddenly a huge migraine came into my head, and it felt like my brain was pressed against all parts of my skull. I sucked in a sharp breath, squeezed my eyes shut, and pressed my fingers to my temples, waiting for it to subside. Just this morning I'd had three of these migraines already, all lasting about three minutes, no more.

When it subsided, what felt like hours later, I slowly opened my eyes and dropped my hands as I readjusted to the light.

"Max, are you okay?" Fang asked, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. The roads were icy, so he kept his gaze mostly there, where it belonged.

"I'm fine. Just a little headache," I lied. Well, not lied. Just downplayed a little bit.

In the silence I was given time to think. Mom, who'd been with me during the first headache, had offered to take me to the doctor. I'd almost agreed, just glad to have her attention of me for no matter how temporarily, but then I'd thought otherwise. I couldn't worry her over something that might be nothing.

But if they continued to happen then I was going to definitely go to a doctor. These things _killed_. Like, bad. Imagine the worst headache you've ever had, then multiply it by a hundred. Yeah, that bad.

We pulled into the parking lot, finally.

"Call me when you're ready to head back," Fang said as he put the truck in neutral.

I smiled so that he wouldn't be worried. "Okay. And thanks," I added at the last moment, and then I ran inside to where it was warm and cozy.

Fang~January 7th~8:24 AM

As I started to drive off, after making sure Max got safely inside, I replayed that last smile over and over in my head.

Her perfect lips forming a smile around her perfect teeth, her perfect brown eyes smiling and her perfect lashes framing them perfectly.

_I am freaking pathetic,_I told myself, and I shook my head to get my mind off of Max.

When I got to the public library that was two blocks from NYDA, I got inside, shrugged off my backpack, and took out my notebook. For my class on Shakespeare (it was _required_; it's not like I wanted to take it) we were writing a two-page paper. And I didn't know much about him. So I grabbed a few books, some of which included _William Shakespeare_, _Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet,_and _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. I knew I wouldn't need all of them, but I got them anyway.

I was about halfway done with the first page when I got a text from Sam, a dude on the football team. He said he called the coach about the game we were supposed to have tomorrow, and it was cancelled. Which, he said positively, meant we would have more practice time. Yay.

I sighed, opened _Romeo and Juliet,_and tried to decipher whatever language Shakespeare was speaking in.

Max~January 7th~9:01 AM

When everybody was there we got into the large room we used for competition and company dances. Anne had signs up, labeled things like jazz, hip hop, tumbling, etc., and she told us all to get in the corner we wanted.

I, as I'd known I would, headed to the lyrical corner.

"Tumblers, I want you to start. Just do whatever it is you do best," Anne said after we'd all dragged some mats out.

We had five tumblers – three girls and two guys – four of which were either all star or college cheerleaders.

First was Adam, a buff college senior, who sprinted into a round-off, back handspring, full and a half twisting layout. I was impressed – I'd always wished I could tumble, but my talent was in dance.

Then was Allie, a thirteen-year-old powerhouse, who did a standing Arabian, then a round-off into a full.

Chris did a few powerful back handsprings into a layout, and Shelby did a few back tucks.

Then came Lissa, who I and nobody else here liked much. I didn't know if it was her fake fiery hair (she naturally had dull black hair) or her flat-out bitchy personality, but I couldn't stand the girl. She was in my grade, and I was just glad that she went to a different school. She did a messy back handspring, with floppy legs, that was very weak. But whatever floats her boat, I guess.

After the rest of the styles showed Anne what they could do, it was my turn. I did my different kinds of pirouettes, some good switch leaps, and some of the jumps I did in my dance.

"Good job, Max," Tonya told me. Lissa shot me a dirty look from her section of the room, but I chose to be the bigger person and watch the rest of the dancers do their things.

After that we worked out the first five eight counts of the dance, and then we settled down in the other room, which had a projector screen. I sat in the middle of a group of friends, all of us snuggled under a blanket found in some closet somewhere in the studio. Anne started _Pearl Harbor,_but only after making sure all of us were old enough to watch it, and then she passed out a few bowls of popcorn to the groups.

I just rested there, warm and surrounded by the familiarity of the studio, engulfed in the movie. It was the kind of movie that made a person angry and sad, but this time I literally cried my eyes out and mentally cursed the dumb people.

Why did I feel so emotionally and physically crappy today? It was probably just a visit from Mother Nature, nothing more. That would explain the mood swings – PMS – and the migraines. I didn't have cramps or anything, but despite that I got up and went to the bathroom, then returned to finish the movie.

_Can u come get me now pls?_I texted to Fang, feeling bad that he had to be out on the icy roads just because my car was old and crappy. But at least he didn't complain, because that would make me feel twice as guilty.

A few moments later a text that said he would come arrived, and so I stood, said goodbye to everybody, and went to stand so that I could wait outside the glass door.

A few minutes later Fang's truck stopped in front of the studio, and sat there idling as I slowly made my way to it, careful not to wipe out on any of the ice. As funny as it is when a cartoon character or a klutz (who can get up and laugh about it afterward) does it, I wasn't in the mood to look like an idiot in front of Fang. Or have melted snow on my butt make it look like I peed my pants.

"Hey. How was it?" he asked as I got in, turning the radio down so that the rap music was just a thing in the background. Which was good, because I _hated_rap. Come to think of it, Fang and I were opposite in about every way possible.

He was a football player who probably thought dance was ridiculously easy, and I was a dancer who thought football was one of the most pointless sports out there.

He was, like me, tall and lean, probably just over six foot tall. But I had fine muscles that weren't very prominent, while I could _see_the muscles on his shoulders, chest, and abs. They weren't disgusting, like a bodybuilder's, but they were definitely there.

Not to mention his gorgeous shaggy dark hair, olive skin, and eyes as dark as midnight. He was Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. I was just the pale little dancer.

I shook my thoughts away finally and said, "Good. What'd you do?" I pulled my seatbelt on as we started going.

"Worked on an essay. Do you want to stop by the car shop where your car is, see if they've gotten anywhere with it?"

"Definitely." Anything to stay with Fang for just a little longer. He was mysterious. I wanted to find out why he called himself Fang, what he thought of me, everything about him. I was addicted to him already, and we still barely knew each other.

So we drove to the car shop, Larson and Sons Auto Body. The garage doors were closed, the lights were off, and there was no car in the parking lot, so I assumed (most likely correctly) that nobody was there.

It was two-thirty by the time Fang's truck stopped in my driveway, and I still didn't want to go home. Two more migraines had attacked me, these ones better hidden by me, and I was nervous to put more stress on my Mom's already-stressful life by telling her I needed a doctor's appointment.

As I pushed the door open, letting in a gust of freezing air and some snow, Fang put his hand on my shoulder. It was big and warm and I liked the feel of it there.

"Yeah?" I said, turning to face him and raising my eyebrows. My stomach churned as he pulled his hand back. Without the warmth of his fingers on my shoulder it felt cold, though the slightest bit of heat lingered there.

"Uh, will you need a ride tomorrow too?" Fang asked.

"Tomorrow's a Saturday – I couldn't ask you to wake up early just to get me to dance. I can get a ride from…someone." Anne maybe? Mom was too busy to drive me anywhere, and that was a fact that was already well-known to me.

"It's no trouble, really. I have to take my brother to soccer practice at the REC Center anyway, so I'll be up, and your house isn't too far out of our way." Fang was, again, trying to convince me to let _him_go out of his way to get me.

Did that mean that he liked me too? But…no, I was only seventeen. I was probably a child to him. I'd barely gotten further than kissing with my past two boyfriends, and Fang had probably had sex with girls before.

The whole thought left me in a gloomy mood, but I hid it well.

"Your brother?" I made myself say, my voice squeaking slightly. I could see that Fang noticed, but he let it slide.

"Yeah, Gazzy. He's eleven. I could tell you more… Maybe we could get together at Starbucks or something and…" Fang swallowed. I blushed, smiling and looking into my lap, jealous that Fang's olive skin didn't show any blushing he did. Which I doubt he did any anyway.

Despite the fact that I absolutely hated coffee or cappuccinos or anything of that sort, I nodded vigorously and said, "Yeah, that sounds great! You have my number, right?"

"Got it," Fang said, nodding. Then he let me go.

Once inside, I waved for him to go through the window. Through the glass I could see him go, and I hardly noticed that my peace sign from this morning was gone. I gave no thought to the fact that the frost could recover my little drawings from this morning, the fact that something could just disappear so quickly.

* * *

_**Chapter Seven:**_

Max~January 11th~8:14 PM

Oh, how I love Saturdays. Even on a week when the weather's been so crappy we only went to school Friday, I still felt overjoyed for the weekend.

And not just because later I was going to get coffee with Fang.

"Let's work on cartwheels," I told the class. I was subbing for Britt's thirty-minute Tiny Tots Tumbling class, and the eighteen kids were bouncing off the walls. I felt like my brain was going to explode, both because I was still having awful headaches, now constantly, and because these kids were going crazy.

I demonstrated a cartwheel, which is just about as advanced as my tumbling goes, and then got beside the mat to spot. The girls got lined up and I helped each of them as they did their cartwheels.

"What do you say, girls?" Anne asked as we all came out of the room. I was sweating more than all of the girls combined, from all the chasing and spotting and lifting and everything.

"Thank you, Miss Max," they all said in harmony, looking at me and smiling like precious little angels.

Yeah, right.

I made sure all of the girls' parents picked them up, then I put my coat and shoes on and grabbed my keys. "See you tomorrow, Anne," I called over my shoulder as I left, letting my hair out of its ponytail. I'd taken the rest of the day off, for the first day since…

My car, which had finally gotten fixed, was waiting for me. I'd forgotten to come out and turn it on early, so when I got inside and pulled the door shut behind me I could still see my breath. I turned the key in the ignition and put my hands on the steering wheel, which had a fuzzy cover on it to keep my hands from freezing.

I drove to the Starbucks that Fang and I had agreed on, and it seemed like my car was just beginning to get warm when I had to get out.

I got inside the Starbucks, which was a nice change in temperature, and looked around for Fang. I found him in the corner, and I waved and started toward him.

"Hey," I said, sliding into the booth across from him. There were two steaming hot chocolates in the middle of the table, and I eagerly snatched one and started to sip. I cussed quietly when it singed my tongue.

"It's hot," Fang told me, smiling teasingly.

"Ha-ha." I pushed the hot chocolate away to let it cool down for just awhile, even though my legs and arms were still freakishly numb and tingling from the cold, even inside my coat and sweatpants. "What'd you do all day?"

"Me and my roommate Tony worked on a paper. Halfway done after almost seven hours of working on it. What about you?"

"Take a guess," I told him, smiling slyly.

"Hmm." Fang took a huge gulp of his still-hot hot chocolate while he pretended to think. "Did you…dance?"

"How ever did you know?" I asked sarcastically, picking up my hot chocolate and taking a careful sip. It wasn't too hot, though, so I continued to drink it.

"So what movie do you want to see after this?" Fang asked, completely changing the subject. I paused and put my Styrofoam cup down.

"I wasn't aware we were going to a movie."

"What're you talking about? I just told you. I've narrowed it down to that new boxing movie and _Step Up 3_."

"We can watch the boxing one – I know that's the one you're hoping I'll pick." I looked at him, and I could see that, yes, he really did want to watch boxing rather than dancing. But that was okay. I'd rather watch TV than football.

"You really don't have to –"

I cut him off with a quiet laugh and said, "Really, Fang, I'm okay with boxing. Girls like to watch sweaty, buff, shirtless guys beat the pulp out of each other, even if they don't like to show it." Fang rolled his eyes at me.

"Done?" he asked, eyeing the cup in my hands.

"Yeah," I said, smiling and nodding. He took it from me to throw away, and looked at me oddly when he saw that it was still three fourths of the way full, but still threw it away. Really I had an awful headache and my stomach was churning so I wasn't hungry or thirsty, but I wouldn't ditch on our date. Or non-date. I didn't really know where I stood with Fang.

"You ride with me. After the movie I can just bring you back here to get your car," Fang told me when we got into the parking lot and I headed for my car.

"Okay."

The ride to the theater was silent, and when we got there Fang bought my ticket as well as some Skittles, even though I objected to anything. I really didn't feel good at all. My head hurt and my stomach hurt and my arms and legs were _still_numb from the cold and I just felt flat-out miserable. I did a mental countdown in my head to see if it was "that time of the month," as many men referred to it, but came up clueless.

We got into the theater and Fang, seeming to notice that I was acting off, got me to eat half the package of Skittles just during the previews. But I got him to take the rest of the package during the movie, on top of the popcorn.

Has anybody else noticed how guys can eat like pigs and gain _muscle_? It's not fair – at all.

My random thoughts were distracted when Fang slid his hand into mine. It was huge warm and rough and callused, but it felt good overlapping my much smaller, smoother hand.

I fought a smile, but I felt it creep onto my face and I saw Fang look at me in my peripheral vision, before looking back to the movie.

Just the slightest touch from Fang had my stomachache and headache seem like blips on my radar, because butterflies were soon roaming every crevasse of my stomach. My first boyfriend had pulled the lame put-the-arm-over-the-girl's-shoulder-so-your-hand-just-so-happens-to-brush-her-boob trick, but the hand-holding with Fang was nice.

"So was the movie everything you hoped for and more?" I asked as I jumped the huge height to get into Fang's truck. I buckled up and we started to go.

"Oh, _ton's_more," Fang said sarcastically, but I still wondered if he was referring to holding hands.

By the time we got back to Starbucks, huge and fluffy flakes of snow were falling from the sky and I was wondering if we would ever go back to school.

"So," I said quietly while we sat there with the truck idling, "thanks for tonight." I didn't want to go yet. I just wanted to spend a few more hours, minutes, seconds with Fang.

Oh, God. I was obsessed, just like that movie, _Obsessed_. Except Fang didn't have a wife and I wasn't quite that psycho – yet. If Fang kept doing what he was now – all the perfect, amazing, wonderful hot teenage guy stuff – then I wouldn't end up far off. I was addicted to him, or so it felt.

"No problem. We'll have to do it again sometime," Fang said easily. While I was anxious, Fang seemed perfectly comfortable. As if it was nothing, he leaned over and kissed my cheek quickly and lightly, but it was really sweet.

"See you later," I said, before the blush I knew was coming could creep onto my face.

I got into my car and, once it was running, Fang drove off. My breath still fogging in front of my face, I backed out of the parking lot with shaky hands.

* * *

_**Chapter Eight:**_

Fang~January 12th~5:27 PM

Max giggled as I tossed a piece of popcorn up and caught it in my mouth. She'd seemed kind of nervous when I picked her up, but she was chilling out now. It wasn't really a relationship yet, anyway. We were just friends who flirted.

"Stop showing off," she laughed, smacking me lightly across the chest.

"Stop flirting!" Tony cried loudly, coming into the room. He had his hands over his ears and was grimacing. "You're gonna kill me with all this lovey dovey stuff!"

"It's not lovey dovey," Max jabbered immediately, smiling and blushing as she looked down.

"Bull." Tony fell onto the couch, but not before scooping up a handful of popcorn, which left Max and I with about half a bowl left. But Mom had made puppy chow, chili for Frito pies, and a big pan of brownies, and she'd delivered them all straight to Tony and my dorm for the Superbowl. "So, Max, are you a Steelers or Packers fan?"

"If you say Packers I will knock you into next week," declared Brigid, Tony's girlfriend, as she came out of the bathroom. But she and Max were already good friends, so it was jokingly.

"Oh, I'm Packers all the way," Max stated simply, putting a few pieces of popcorn into her mouth and chewing on them thoughtfully. "And if you say you like the Steelers I'm going to go dive out that window to escape."

"Then you'll have to dive out of windows three times, because we're all Steelers fans," Tony said. "Fang, I can't believe you brought a Packers fan into our home!"

"Sorry, man," I said, shrugging. Max laughed and stood up, lifting her gray sweatshirt over her head to reveal a green and yellow Packers jersey identical to the ones the team was wearing as they made their way out of a tunnel and onto the field.

"You like?" she asked, turning and lifting her hair so that I could see the name. "Rodgers" was pasted in big letters on the shoulders of the jersey, and the number 12 took up Max's whole back.

"I don't want to hurt your feelings, so I won't answer that," I said with the slightest smirk.

"Rude!" Max scolded, sitting down as she pulled her hair into a low ponytail that draped over her right shoulder.

"So Tony was telling me about this thing on the news –" Brigid began, but she stopped when we all shushed her. Silently, she sank into a corner of the couch to watch them flip the coin.

The Steelers called tails and, as the huge man in the tux flipped it, I crossed my fingers and begged for the side with the stadium to face up. But it was heads, so the Packers got the ball first.

"Booyah!" Max yelled, jumping up and doing a little victory dance that made me laugh, despite the fact that I'd been angry about the coin flip not two seconds ago. "In your face!" She pointed at me, then went on with her little dance until I got her to relax and sit down and watch the rest.

"I thought you didn't like football," I murmured a little bit later, when the Packers had just scored their first touchdown.

"It's not that I don't like it. It's just that I usually don't have a chance to keep up with it. But when I do, the Packers are the best. Just saying." Max held up her hands defensively so that I didn't argue, and we turned back to the game where, to my dismay, the Packers were making their kicks.

"Noooooooooooo!" Brigid cried. The game was over – the Packers had won, 35 to 21.

"I suppose I have it in me not to brag. But only because you guys had good sportsmanship." Max smiled gleefully, standing up and running to the counter where her phone was ringing. She answered it and immediately said, "I know, right!...Well we definitely weren't our best tonight, but it was good enough and…"

"Fang," Tony said seriously, frowning. Brigid was in the corner still, trying to keep a smile off her face. Something was up.

"Yeah?" I leaned back. Max and I had been sitting on the floor, so I stretched my back against the footrest that we'd been sitting against.

"Brigid and I talked about it, and we think it's in your best interest to break up with Max." He said this so seriously, so convincingly that I believed him. Until…

"Oh my God, I can't lie!" Brigid yelled, bursting out laughing. Max glanced over from her phone conversation, but quickly tuned Brigid out. "We love Max, just not the fact that she's a Packers fan." I shrugged.

"I guess we'll all just have to adjust." I winked at them and crawled over to pick up Max's sweatshirt. "You cold?" I asked her when she'd hung up. She frowned.

"No. Why?"

"Because that jersey is a disgrace to our home and it needs covered up," I said, sounding completely serious.

"Excuse-ey muah?" she asked in _the worst_French accent I'd ever heard. Then she used her left hand to brush off her right shoulder, trying to do it and look cool like…whatever "cool" people actually did that.

"So, Max, how's dance?" asked Brigid. I'd told her about Max's dance life, and she was completely interested. She always went on and on about how she wished she was talented enough to be a dancer, so I knew she would drone on and on about it to Max too.

"Good. I decided to take a tumbling class and I can now do a backbend," Max said proudly, putting her hands on her hips.

"Prove it," I told her, saying it as if I didn't believe her. She narrowed her eyes at me, found a place with room, and got ready. Slowly she put her hands over her head and bent backward, falling but managing to catch herself on her hands. Just barely.

"See?" she gasped from upside down. Her face was bright red and her hair was falling onto the floor in a fan, making it easy for me to see every color in it.

"That was a bad idea," I told her and, without explaining further, attacked her with tickles. She automatically moved her hands from the ground to her stomach, where I was tickling her, and I caught her and lowered her carefully to the ground so that I could tickle her even more.

"S – stop!" she gasped between giggles. "I'm – the most – ticklish person – ever – _Fang_!" She rolled every way to try to get away from me, and I eventually let her. She sat up, gasping for air and still bright red.

"Sorry," I said, shrugging innocently.

"Sorry? Oh I'll show you…" She ran at me, but I caught her easily and threw her over my shoulder, holding her by her legs while she beat at my back with her fists. "Guys," I said to Brigid and Tony, who were making out on the couch.

"Yeah?" Brigid asked, not looking at me as she pulled back.

"First off, I'm taking the Packers fan elsewhere," I said, gesturing to Max, who was still slung over my shoulder. She was no longer beating at my back though, just dangling there probably checking out my ass. "Second, get a room." With that, I turned around and escaped into the hallway, jogging easily down the stairs and toward the parking lot with Max giggling on my shoulder.

* * *

_**Chapter Nine:**_

Max~January 13th~6:32 PM

"I'll see you guys next week," I called to the class of little girls leaving the studio. "I'm heading out," I said to Anne, getting my things together.

"Have a good time," she muttered, not looking away from the stack of papers she was sifting through. Recital was two months away. It seemed like a long time, but not in the dance world.

"Alrighty." I pulled the hood of my light jacket over my head and jogged out to my car. Headlights of other cars were illuminating the snow. When I got in my car I shivered, blasting the heat and rubbing my hands together until they were a little warmer.

My phone rang and I quickly snatched it up. "Hello?" I asked breathlessly, finally driving out of the parking lot.

"Hi. How are you?" Fang's voice was warm and familiar, even through my cell phone.

He'd been worried sick about me lately. After the Superbowl yesterday, when he'd carried me outside to take me home, I'd suddenly gotten one of my migraines. But this time it was so bad I had to cradle my head in my hands, and when it was gone I had a hard time making out sentences and seeing things far away. I'd somehow managed to convince Fang not to take me to the hospital.

But on one condition: I had to get a doctor's appointment.

"I'm fine. Just headed to the hospital."

"Good."

"Not good," I insisted as the hospital came into view. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm fine? Seriously, that little spell only lasted, like, five minutes at most. And I haven't had a single migraine since."

"Max, that's only about twelve hours. That doesn't mean you're out of the woods with whatever this is." Fang sounded serious, like I was really at risk here.

"It's nothing!" I said a little loudly, but by then I was in a parking place in front of the hospital. I pulled my keys out, adjusting my boots so that no snow would get to my socks. I sighed. "I've gotta go. I'll call you afterward."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye." I hung up and sat in the car for a few more moments, preparing for the gust of cold air that would hit me as soon as I opened the door.

And I finally garnered up my strength and got out the car, walking slowly into the hospital.

Fang~January 13th~6:45

After I got off the phone with Max I had to head right to practice. When we'd been on the phone I was in the locker room.

"Alright, guys, huddle up," Coach said, and we all surrounded him. Today was the start of track season and I, tall and thin, perfect for hurdles and sprints, was glad to be out of my football pads and wearing good old basketball shorts and a T-shirt with cut off sleeves. "I hope we're all looking for a good season. Today we'll be doing conditioning, and I'll keep my eye out for people who catch my eye. Start to run two miles." He clapped his hands.

"Yay," said a junior girl, and she started to jog off with some of her friends.

"Hey, man," I muttered to a buddy of mine, Dylan. He was a sophomore, basketball and track boy, and _huge_ladies man. But he had absolutely nothing underneath that thick skull of his. Maybe a few bubbles floating around.

"Hey, Fang. What's up?" he asked. I looked around as we jogged around a corner of the track, carefully avoiding the quickly-melting snow. It was fifty-five degrees, super-nice compared to what we'd had lately.

"Running. Clearly." I rolled my eyes. For the next four laps, starting into the second mile, I kept up at a steady jog. In high school I'd been taught to inhale through my nose and exhale from my mouth, and it was a technique I focused on completely, other than running of course. "So what do you do?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"What do you do. Like, throw, sprints, hurdles…" I trailed off, figuring that by now he'd gotten the point.

"I do discus," he said, nodding.

When we finished the two mile run we all gathered in a circle, stretching our legs and arms. Then the coach sent us on a road run. We were supposed to jog to the giant building a few blocks over, wrap around it, and come back. Overall it was two miles there and two miles back. Yay.

The run was fairly easy for me, because of my gangly legs. In football I was more of a kicker than anything else, because I was so tall and thin. But in track… Well, not to toot my own horn, but I pretty much dominated.

I returned back after about an hour, and the sky was blood red, pink, and orange at the horizons, but straight above it was already black and starry. I tried to pick out the big or little dipper while I waited for the rest of the group to arrive, but failed to find them behind the tall buildings.

After walking a lap around the track to cool off, I sat down cross-legged and downed a whole water bottle while the ones who'd been in the back finished up.

I thought about Max. She was at the hospital, only because I'd been worried and had suggested it. If nothing was wrong I was going to feel like a _major_idiot. But if something _was_wrong…

I shook my head, then quickly swiped my hair out of my eyes. _Don't think about it, Fang,_I thought, and I made myself concentrate so much on that single sentence that I was able to push Max's gorgeous brown eyes out of my head.

"Great job today, everybody," the coach finally said. He stood above all of us and went over the schedule and tryout dates. This was just pre-conditioning for people who wanted it. Tryouts were in a few days.

At last we were dismissed. In the locker room I just put on some sweats, leaving my cutoff T-shirt on, and my phone rang as I was walking out to my truck.

"Hello?" I said, even though, because of Caller ID, I knew it was Max. I was anxious to know what she had to say.

"Fang?" She sounded so sweet and innocent and…helpless…that it worried me.

"What's wrong, Max?" I forced myself to say. I was now in my truck and had it running, but my hands gripped the steering wheel helplessly. Not really to get ready to drive, more like to have a hand on something sturdy in case of something…not good.

"I've…I've got some bad news."

* * *

**And this is where I take over. I hope everyone gives me a chance with this story. I'll be adding my sample later so everyone can get off of this silly cliffhanger that our amazing author had left us with!**

**I may not be able to be as amazing as the original writer but hey, I'm gonna try. And I just noticed something... First nine chapters in one :D**

**I hope you stick with me throughout the rest of Save the Last Dance. **

**-VivaLaKatee**


	2. Stay Through the Storm

**Hello all Save the Last Dance fans! I'm your new writer for this story.**

**This begins with my sample I sent to **book. junkie. 1996** and I hope you like this. I just, needed to add this so we don't keep any of the original fans waiting.**

**I do realize that the entire first chapter was the original story. My chapters aren't extremely long. More like the original writer's actually. You'll see soon enough.**

**Let's just jump in. Remember: I don't own Maximum Ride or the idea for this story, but I do kinda own what come next.

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**

Fang~January 14th~ 11:15

"So, what you're saying is that you need surgery?" I asked as I picked up the coffee, the hot cup warming my frozen hands.

"Yeah, well, at least that's what the doctor said," Max sighed, taking a sip of her latte.

When Max had called the day before we had agreed to meet at Fay's, the little café that was just a couple of blocks from the dance studio.

See, the day before Max had told me that she had a tumor. Not just any tumor, one of those that just happens to be in your head and gives you pounding migraines. Yeah, one of those.

"They want to get my surgery scheduled for some time in the following week, although they doubt it'll happen so quickly." Max's eyes glazed over for a moment, letting the information sink in.

"So fast?" I asked, taking a sip of my untouched coffee. In all honesty I just bought it to keep my hands warm; I didn't really need anything in my already churning stomach.

Max nodded, avoiding my eyes.

A tear slid down her cheek and I leaned over the table to wipe it away but she moved just out of my reach.

"I'll be here for you, no matter what."

"Its surgery or I die. That's what the doctor told me. Want to hear his exact words? They were "_Maximum, it seems to be that your tumor has grown and if it isn't surgically removed that it will grow too large to get rid of. In the end, it's surgery or death," _Max shuddered as she stated the words, anger seeping into her voice.

I shook my head, clearing all thoughts of Max not being there. I wouldn't allow it to happen, "You're getting the surgery."

"What? When did I tell you that you could decide that?" Max snapped, her voice pained.

"When I decided that you can't die. That's when. Now shut up and drink your stupid latte," I swallowed the lump that had begun to form in my throat.

"Yes, _mother."_ Well, no amount of bad news can keep away Max's sarcastic side, that's for sure.

Really? Did she just call me her mother? "Don't ever say that again." It's way too weird for her to call me her mother. Think about it, would you want this beautiful girl that you care deeply for to call you mother when you may have semi-dirty thoughts about her? No. Didn't think so.

Yes, I did just admit I have had some semi-dirty thoughts about Max. I'm a hormonal male and she is a very attractive female. You do the math.

"Fang-" Max began to protest but I shook my head, glancing around the café. Not many people were here at the moment, despite it being around 11 something.

"Let's talk about something else, I just… can't talk about this anymore," Max brought the coffee cup to her lips before setting it back down and staring intently out the window we were seated next to.

I followed her gaze, only to notice a storm beginning to collect, swirls of white whipping against the window, making patterns.

"Hey kids, seems that a storm is picking up. I don't want you driving until it clears." The owner, Fay, smiled at us before looking back out the window and clicking her tongue, "Free coffee and snacks until you can go."

With that Fay walked to the next table, a women tapping away at her laptop who just nodded and went back to her work.

"I love the snow."

"What?" Max turned to look at me, her brow creasing slightly at the random topic, although it wasn't all too random.

"I said, I love the snow." I smiled lightly before looking outside.

The sun was still shining but it was slowly disappearing behind the white clouds. The other building around Fay's were slowly getting covered by the white snow, making it sparkle lightly in the disappearing sun's golden rays.

"The snow's cool, but it's still cold." Max said from her seat across from me.

"True… very true." I turned back to her and a corner of my mouth lifted slightly.

"I have to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back," Max stated, standing from her chair and heading to the back of the café, where the restroom was. Her hips swayed, unknowingly to her, as she tucked hair behind her ear. She grinned a little when she turned around and caught me staring at her. Plus, she giggled.

Max~January 14th~ 11:42

"Excuse me miss," A young woman stopped me as I passed her table on my way to the bathroom.

"Yes?" I questioned, why was she talking to me?

"You and your boyfriend make the cutest couple." The young woman smiled at me before turning to, what I could only assume, her boyfriend and asking "Wouldn't you agree Tyler?"

'Tyler' nodded and winked as soon as my cheeks began to heat up.

"Uhm, he's not my boyfriend," I bit my lip and tucked another stand of hair behind my ear, a nervous habit of mine, turning my gaze to Fang, who sat there looking out the window.

"Yet. But, he will be. Believe me, woman to woman. He will be, in the near future." The woman winked, my eyes widening and my blush deepening.

I hurried to the bathroom before any more further embarrassment could come to me.

Yeah, I know Fang and I flirt –a lot- but was I ready to become his… _girlfriend?

* * *

_

**There you go. First full chapter written by me. I just wanted to say one thing… hello!**

**I wasn't sure if I had already said it or not… **

**The reason I'm saying hello is because some of the people reading this are coming because I am picking up StLD and some may be from reading my other stories. So, hello new and old readers!**

**I hope this kept you entertained for now. More to come soon.**

***Signing off,**

**-VivaLaKatee**


	3. Lo Mein

**Hi! So, I'm home sick from school so I decided to post another chapter. It's a little earlier than I planned but I figured you wouldn't mind.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride.

* * *

**

Max~January 15th~9:15 AM

I sat on my couch, talking to Dr. Marx about when the surgery would be scheduled when a knock came from my door.

"Hold on one second Dr. Marx," I stood, slipping on a pair of comfy slippers before heading to the door.

As soon as the door swung open, Ella rushed in, a bag attached to her side, "Max! I was just at the dance studio, I thought you were instructing today…" Ella sighed, dumping her stuff on the ground and landing on the couch.

"I asked for this morning off, I had to make a few calls…" I looked down at the phone in my hand, the screen smeared and the cover still in tact, "In fact, I'm on the phone right now. I'll be right back."

I put the phone back up to my ear and hurried towards the stairs, heading to my room.

"I need to talk to you Max!" Ella yelled, picking herself up off of the couch and following me.

"Go on," I say into the phone, wanting to finish my conversation with Dr. Marx before Ella can catch up with me. I'm taking the steps two at a time, now three, to get to my room.

The doors open when I reach it, "Yes, how does the 21st sound to you Max?" Dr. Marx asks and I plop down onto my bed. The warm comforter pulled back and ruffled from sleep.

"Uhm, let me check." I stand, making my way towards my calendar.

_Tuesday, January 21__st__: Dance 8-10; 3-9:30_

_Wednesday, January 22__nd__: Dance 8-10; 3-9:30_

_Thursday, January 23__rd__: Recital Shopping; No dance_

"See, the twenty-first doesn't work for me. How about the twenty third, they won't need me at the studio that day," I run my fingers through my tangled hair as I listen to the rustle of papers from the other end.

"That's fine. I'll call if there are any changes in the schedule." With that Dr. Marx hung up, leaving me to my thoughts.

_Should I tell Fang about my surgery?_

"Max, can I talk to you for a second?" A knock came from my door, followed by Ella poking her head in.

I nodded, allowing her to come in.

Ella opened the door, showing her standing at my door dressed in dark jeans and AC/DC band t-shirt, before walking towards me and plopping down onto my bed.

"So, mom got a call from some doctor this morning."

I knew where this was going. The hospital called mom and now they know. Just what I need.

"Can me, Ig, and mom be there for your surgery?" Ella studied her hands as I thought about it.

Yeah, I want them to be there for me, but do I really want them to see me like that? See me _exposed _and _weak?_

"Of course, you're my family."

"Good, I'm hungry." Ella stood and headed towards the door before looking over her shoulder, "Want some?"

Nodding, we headed down to the kitchen to get some left over Chinese take-out from the other night.

"Not take out, why don't I just make you something? Just because I'm blind," Iggy flinched as he said it but evened out his voice before he spoke again, "doesn't mean I can't still cook," Iggy's face twisted in disgust before he smiled, "Who has the lo-mein?"

Fang~January 15th~9:23 AM

"Fang, did Brigid leave something here last night?" Tony ran past me, into the bathroom, before coming back out, his face scrunched up as his eyes glided over the room.

I looked up from my Shakespeare notes and raised an eyebrow, "How am I supposed to know?"

Tony sighed before falling onto the couch, "Anything good on?"

"Nah," I glanced back down to my notes on Hamlet, the words making no sense.

"_What art thou that usurp'st this time of night,__  
__Together with that fair and warlike form__  
__In which the majesty of buried Denmark__  
__Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak!"_

What the hell was that supposed to even mean?

"Dude, you still working on that? Let me guess, don't understand a word?" Tony smirked as he flipped through the channels, looking for a game of some sort to watch.

"Pretty much. I'm gonna fail," I shrunk back into the couch, closing my eyes and asking myself how in the hell I was supposed to concentrate on Hamlet.

"I got Brigid to help with mine, I'll ask her to help you too."

Tony was gone in the next instant, off to call his girlfriend to help me.

My phone buzzed on the coffee table, I let it go to voicemail before I realized it might be Max.

Snatching it up, I didn't bother to check the called ID before hitting answer, "Yeah?"

The voice on the other end didn't belong to Max though; it was only Angel, "Fang! Mom needs you to come home for dinner sometime this week, she misses you."

"Kay, I'll be there on Friday or something."

Angel and I talked for a little while longer, well up till I realized that I had ten minutes until my physiology class.

"Ange, I gotta go. Class," I hung up, taking my notes and shoving them into my bag before sprinting out into the hall, making my way to one of my least favorite classes.

I made it with two minutes to spare, the room almost filled.

"Nice of you to join us Mr. Grey." Mrs. Terrifiana sighed and went back to writing on the board, her marker squeaking every few seconds.

This was going to be a long class.

* * *

**This wasn't one of my better chapters so I'm sorry but if you want you can let me know what I did wrong in the reviews. Let me know what I can improve on.**

**But, please don't forget one thing. I might have a little bit of a different writing style than the original writer. Yet, I do try to incorporate all of suggestions and I try to make my writing better.**

***Signing off,**

**-VivaLaKatee**


	4. Virus

Hey guys, this isn't an update…

Okay, I sorta owe every one an explination as to why I haven't updated.

My computer got a virus. My very first virus. Yep, I lost everything I hate written up. Which happened to be a lot… Meaning all four of my stories and three one-shots.

Uh, I'm sorry.

Also, I won't be updating for a little bit, at least not this week or next. Hopefully I'll be able to update as soon as I come home.

Also, I would update Friday but turns out I'm getting on the road (for an 8 hour trip none the less) the minute I get out of school.

Yay me. Sarcasm used.

Alright, I'll let you all get mad at me now. It's only fair.

I'll leave you now. Bye.

*Signing off,

-VivaLaKatee


	5. Midnight Thoughts

**I am back from the dead. That's all I really feel like saying though. No long authors note, just me saying I'm back and updating. But do realize, I ju****st got Louise (my computer) back.**

**P.S. I'm changing the layout slightly; let me know what you think of it.**

**P.S.S. Fang is really OOC this chapter. Just, know ahead of time…**

**Alright, on with the story:**

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**Chapter Twelve: Midnight Thoughts**

Fang~January 16th

"_All I'm saying is that it's on twenty-third. Can you make it? It's a Thursday and my family is going to be there, but I want you there too… Surprisingly enough." I could just picture Max dragging her hand through her hair as she explained the process of everything. I wasn't studying to be a doctor so needless to say, I had a few questions._

"_You're surprised you want me there? Hurtful," I smiled into the phone, "I'll be there."_

The moment I had gotten her call, there was no doubt in my mind that I had wanted to go through this with her. I wanted to be able to go through it all, no matter how crazy or stupid or scary it may be. I wanted to help Max, to be by her side. I needed her to know I cared about her.

That night I lay in my bed, thinking. Thinking about anything, everything, everyone.

11:47

My clock blinked at me, urging to go to bed, to get some much needed sleep. Yet, I couldn't. I just… couldn't. Not knowing what was happening in just a few short days.

Okay, so maybe it was more like a week. Still, it was driving me crazy.

_You__ have to tell her; ask her._

The little voice inside my head screamed at me to just get it over with. To finally ask her and make everything official. To kiss her, to feel her hair tangled in between my fingers. To know that she was mine and no one else's.

_All you have to say is "Max, go out with me? Be my girlfriend?" What is so hard?_

Seems easy, but it isn't. It's a lot harder than I pictured it.

Two days ago, at the coffee shop, I was going to do it. But, the timing just never seemed… right. Never like that perfect moment to ask. You know, the one you see in all those sappy chick flicks? Yeah, that one. It almost seemed as if it just happened to be ignoring me.

Shit, I sound like a chick. I can't help it though. _This _is what she does to me; Max.

Before I met her, I was a player. What? I see those looks you all are giving me. Hey, it was true though. I'm a college football player; I like the ladies, ladies like me. How could it not have happened? Good, you see my point. HEY, I see you all the way in the back shaking your head. Don't be like that.

Anyway, I was lying in my bed. The red numbers blinked next to me and reflected onto the ceiling, which I just happened to be staring at, while I thought.

12:05 AM

Well, it's Friday at least.

_Ask Max today? Tomorrow?_

Yeah, I'm still thinking about it. I just can't figure anything out. Not now, not when I'm sleep deprived.

"_Oh, and Fang? I really hope you're on time. I may just want to see you a little before I have to go in. Or not, depends on how I'm feeling." Max's voice rang through the phone, her tone mocking and sarcastic but sweet and endearing at the same time._

"_Eh, I may be, I may not be. We'll just have to see," I breathed in, laying my head onto the arm of the couch. I wouldn't miss spending a minute with her, no matter how girly I sound._

The conversation kept repeating, as if it was on repeat. Max's laugh after I mentioned the last part, her little sigh as we hung up, the freakishly loud volume of her voice as she yelled at her brother and sister for disrupting her room; Everything.

Although, the entire conversation was light, yet somehow heavy, I couldn't even get up the courage to ask her then. I had tried multiple times, only to chicken out at the last second.

"_Max, so, uh… I have to ask you something." I stuttered, she and I both know I never do that. Yet, I did. No matter how hard I tried to mask it, I couldn't._

"_What? Is something wrong?" Worry; that's all I could detect. She was worried I was about to say something horrible, bad, something to ruin the conversation._

_I was about to say it, about to ask Max out on a real date when I did it again, "Never mind, it really isn't important at all. I can ask you some other time."_

When did I become a wimp? Fuck. Who cares right now. I just need to get this over with. Need it done.

There was a full moon out tonight. As it shone through my open window, the breeze caressing my sheets and sending a warm smell throughout the room, my room basked in its glow.

The wall facing the window was illuminated in its glow, exposing its every nook and cranny.

All I needed right now was to sleep, to get her off of my mind. Sleep might help. Or it may bring me more thoughts of her. Of her beautiful dirty blonde hair **(It is dirty blonde right? I don't feel like going back…) **and her sly smirk, her bright brown eyes and her petite little nose, her soft hands and her lean torso, her long legs and her pointed feet.

Maybe that's just what I need. Or maybe it isn't. Either way, sleep is just what I wish for.

What I'm welcoming at the moment. Hoping for it to capture me and divulge me in its darkness.

And that's just what I got.

* * *

"**Throw your soul through every open door, Count your blessings to find what you look for, Turned my sorrow into treasured gold, You pay me back in kind and reap just what you sow." – Rolling in the Deep; Adele**

**So, I hope it was okay. Just know, Fang is meant to be OOC. It was on purpose. I personally, think this chapter could be better but… yeah..**

**Happy Mother's Day!**

***Signing off,**

**-VivaLaKatee**


	6. Hiatus

Hey, I'm not gonna give you a million excuses as to why I haven't updated, but I will tell you one thing.

All of my stories are on a hiatus for the time being. I don't know when I'll be updating them but I can promise you I will finish them. All of them. At one point or another.

I'm only going to be working on one story for the time being: Shades of Color.

I may post something for one of my others every once in awhile but until Shades of Color is completely finished and done I won't be updating several chapters at a time.

When Shades of Color is complete I'll pick a new one that I already have up and I will then finish that one.

Then when that one is finished I'll pick a new one.

I hate to do this. I do, but I honestly don't have interest to write lately. When I sit down and try to write, I have no inspiration. I don't want to completely ruin these stories that I have put so much work into so I am waiting to write them.

Don't hate me, It's okay if you do though.

I'm going to go work on Shades. If you want to read some of my work read that one: It's my best story I have up.

Also, I'll be putting up a few one-shots for different fandoms in the near future. Read those and wait patiently.

Again: I am so sorry.

*Signing off,

-VivaLaKatee


	7. Final Author's Note

Hello everyone.

I know it's been forever.

I'm not here to make excuses because I have none. I simply am no longer interested in writing these stories. I had some stuff written but nothing ever sounded right.

I'm no longer interested in the Maximum Ride fandom if I'm being honest. I've read all of the books so far and I've been reading fanfics for who knows how long but I just don't feel like I'm apart of it anymore.

I will be completely stopping all of my stories. I'm sorry if that disappoints you but that's the way it is. That's the way the cookie crumbles.

I am still writing but now I'm writing for a different fandom… Seeing as I've caught One Direction Infection I've been writing stories about them.

If you want to see what I've written for them then check out my fanfic blog: fanficsofthe1dandbtrboys. tumblr . com/

If you don't care then that's fine, I understand.

Just wanted everyone to know. Also, I will be deleting these stories off of my account.

If anyone would like to take over _Save the Last Dance_ then let me know and I'll send you all of the stuff I had written up.

Sorry.

-Kate.


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